


One Song Glory

by CelestialDreamGirl



Category: Captain Marvel (2019), Critical Role (Web Series), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: BARELY EVEN REYLO, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, But technically, Crit role, Dirty Talk, F/F, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Infrequent Updates, One Shot, Recreational Drug Use, Reylo - Freeform, if you can even call it that, mollymauk au, multi fandom, oops im a dumb gay stoner so there's weed in here, undead dead character??
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-02-01 01:35:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21316570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestialDreamGirl/pseuds/CelestialDreamGirl
Summary: a collection of one-shots and practice prompts. this is my self-indulgent space to write and (hopefully) practice getting better. multi-fandom, but my current muse is Crit Role. I'll keep this updated with more fandoms as I write more...
Relationships: Carol Danvers/Original Character(s), Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 5
Kudos: 8





	1. Toronto (Caleb Widowgast x MoMo O'Brien)

**Author's Note:**

> MoMo O’Brien as a cute shape-shifting barkeep who Caleb finds himself enamored by...

The Mighty Nein had a reputation.

To some, they were heroes - slaying monsters and saving towns. To others, they were little shits who drew dicks everywhere and got kicked out of libraries. Currently, they were weary travelers, desperately trying to find a horizontal place to rest after traipsing the map of Wildemount. They'd tossed out suggestions all evening, and had finally settled on a familiar resort. The party had come to an agreement and with a blink of orange arcane mist, the Mighty Nein appeared at the front porch of the Lavish Chateau. Hugs and greetings had been exchanged, and the illustrious Marion LaVorre had welcomed them for an evening of sanctuary. While the rest of the party reconnected with Jester's mother, Caleb Widowgast excused himself downstairs to a tavern and took a seat by the bar. He sat with a mug of tea, trying to warm his bones from the chill of travel. Frumpkin was blinked off to his fey dimension and the rest of the Mighty Nein was back at the Chateau, regaining spells or working on their push-up routine.

Caleb found himself gazing through Frumpkins eyes to spare himself from the day behind him. Tonight, he was blindly drinking tea while his mind was dimensions away. Through Frumpkin, he was watching a blue dragonfly flitter around orange flowers against and eternally purple sky. The Mighty Nein had once joked that Frumpkin was secretly the Fey King - it was times like this that made Caleb wonder if they were right.

"Sometimes I think you are the _real_ adventurer, my friend." Caleb felt Frumpkin's flattered and smug telepathic response. He felt a nudge on his shoulder and Caleb blinked out of the fey cat's eyes.

When his eyes readjusted, he was faced with a young woman behind the bar. She had fair skin and dark hair, and Caleb was quick to notice her lovely eyes. The woman raised an eyebrow.

"I'm terribly sorry, were you speaking to me?" Caleb asked. "I was a million miles away - you'll have to excuse me."

"I just wanted to make sure you were alright!" The melodic voice washed over Caleb like a swelling spring breeze. "You've been staring at your tea for a long time - I was starting to worry you'd been paralyzed."

Caleb couldn't help the chortle that escaped his throat.

"Not paralyzed. Lost in thought." The young woman's eyes scanned over the disheveled wizard.

"More tea? You seem to be running low."

"Only if you'll join me for a cup." A faint, rosy flush spread across the girl's cheeks. She smiled and took his cup, which Caleb took for a yes. "Where are my manners," Caleb murmured. "My name is Caleb. Caleb Widowgast."

"I'm Momo. I run this place." The girl called - she was facing the tea kettle, but it sounded like she was smiling. Caleb felt his lip twitch into a fraction of a grin. He felt closer to home than he'd been in a while. Though the floral detail and pastel-colored art that decorated this tavern wasn't exactly Caleb's first choice of decor, it certainly gave the room a relaxed feel. He made a mental note to compliment this barkeep on the atmosphere - she took care of this little shop.

"So do your eyes often glow like that?" Momo slid a cup of tea across the bar and sat down across from him with her own mug.

"Sometimes, _ja_." He answered, more honestly than he expected. "I'm a student of the arcane - sometimes all sorts of things glow." Momo giggled, drawing a smile from the wizard. "What about you, Miss Momo, are you following an arcane practice?"

Momo glanced around, giving Caleb a chance to admire the beautiful barkeep's picturesque profile.

"I'm not so much a practice as I am a weirdo."

"Magic can be pretty weird. What's your trick?"

"Well, I was born a little different. I had this ability, and when I learned how to use it, I believe the kids call me a shapeshifter." While she was talking, Caleb was intently watching her face - and right before his eyes, it started to change. First, her nose shifted into a pig snout, then her eyes changed from crystal blue to gold. Her pupils dilated into a cat-shaped slit, and her skin turned a pastel shade of purple. Suddenly, her whole form shifted to Caleb's exact mirror image.

Caleb was amazed. He'd never seen someone disguise themselves so well or so fluidly. He smiled. As Momo shifted back to her own form, Caleb politely applauded.

"And you say you were born with this gift? It's not a spell or an item or something that _enables_ you to do that?"

"Nope! My mother says I was born blessed. Even before I could use this power, I was already good at dresses and costumes and," Momo wiggled her fingers in front of Caleb, "the _art of disguise_."

"Your skills are quite impressive."

"You're one to talk, with your glowing eyes and whatnot."

Hours went by. Caleb found himself so entranced by the shapeshifter he didn't realize how late into the evening he'd been out. He glanced around and noticed that all the other patrons had gone, leaving Momo and Caleb alone in her tavern. Caleb glanced down at his long empty teacup.

"As charming as you are, I should be going." Caleb started to stand. Momo plucked their teacups off the bar and set them down behind the counter.

"I hope I haven't kept you from anything important."

"Only a couple of idiots I occasionally fuck shit up with." Momo couldn't help but giggle. Caleb's Zemnian accent and deadpan made swear words sound so... _off_ coming out of his mouth.

"I'll let you get back to your idiots them." Momo brushed a curl behind her ear. "But if you ever find yourself back in Toronto, you know I'm here!"

"I beg your pardon, I've never heard of Toronto." Momo raised an eyebrow and pointed to the word painted in lilac above the bar.

"Toronto... the name of my little tavern."

"What an interesting name..."

"It came to me in a dream," Momo explained. Caleb smiled and stood, offering his hand.

"I really must be going, but thank you for a most delightful cup of tea." Momo shook Caleb's hand and blushed when he pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "I do hope I see you again, Miss Momo."

"Goodnight Mr. Caleb."

Caleb nodded and took his leave for the Lavish Chateau. He kept his gaze forward as he moved up the stairs, a hand on the railing. When he was out of sight, he sent Frumpkin, this time in the shape of a spider, back down the banister.

He wanted to see her smile just one more time.


	2. Blue Girls (Beauregard / Jester)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beau's been gone for a while and Jester's been pining...  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (super short! I may add more to add the reuniting part, but this is what I got and it's a very cute and short and small)  
I have 2 whole braincells and they’re both BeauJes kinda modern kinda apartment AU

Jester was wistfully doodling on the balcony, and she found herself still drawing Beau.  
She tried to focus on the street below she was supposed to be studying, but she’d start drawing a line and somehow end up with the perfect curvature of a bicep or the muscles that twisted into her smile. Jester was trying not to focus on missing Beau, but her sketchbook seemed intent on only housing doodles of her. She’d only been gone for a week, but for Jester, it felt like months without rain.  
She missed her blue girl.

Beau was fucking exhausted.  
She’d been gone for what felt like a year, and that made her ecstatic to get her ass off the plane and back home to her dog and her weasel and her _girl_. Beau tried not to fantasize about Jester, but with her head quite literally in the clouds, it was too easy. Her smile in the morning before she’d made her coffee, the way she always poured a glass of wine with dinner and always ended up giving it to Beau, the flip of a skirt to rile Beau up on her way out the door, it was all the organized chaos that made up the love of her life, Jester Lavorre. Beau blinked at the clouds, thinking of the woman she was waiting for below.  
She missed her blue girl.


	3. the Captain and the Princess (Carol Danvers x Original Character)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Carol Danvers is the queen of weed...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dispensary = a place where adults can buy weed  
*dispensaries usually have a front room for security purposes where they can check your ID and make sure you're legal, then they have a button at the counter that unlocks the security door and lets you into the bud room
> 
> bud room = the room in a dispensary that houses all the weed  
Stiiizy = a weed vape pen that looks like a Juul (don't Juul, smoke weed instead)

To a certain point, everyone has heard of her. If you’ve been to a party in the tiny town in Rosamond, you’ve heard of the Captain. She’s all sorts of fun at karaoke, but she’s got a specific gift for working with weed. It’s a small town which she reigns over, but as far as smoking goes, Carol Danvers is the queen.

With a drizzle of rain providing gentle percussion in the empty dispensary, Carol was more relaxed than she’d been in a while.

The Stiiizy she was smoking from helped.

She technically wasn’t supposed to be taking periodic hits in the bud room, since most of her merchandise was flammable. But _ technically _, she wasn’t smoking. No fire hazard, no problem.

Carol sent a whisper of smoke swirling into the fan and turned up the volume of the bud-room radio. She smirked at the grunge guitar she was met with and snagged her clipboard. Her buzzy head high and the drizzling rain were welcome company for her tedious night of measuring spicy green nugs into mason jars. 

An hour passed and the rain picked up, determined to drown out the radio Carol kept adjusting.

“-_ freak rainstorms are sweeping the coast and are pushing inland. Citizens are advised to stay home and avoid driving-“ _

Carol paused when she finished counting out an ounce of Northern Lights, silently thanking the Gods she lived so close.

_ At least I’m not some poor son of a bitch who’s stranded out in the rain- _

Carol’s train of thought was interrupted by a heavy tap on the door.

She’d been mostly alone throughout her evening - a few stray stoners stopped by for a gram or a replacement lighter, but Carol was mostly left to her own devices. She wasn’t expecting any more company, but when she turned, she saw a dark, drenched figure at the door.

“Excuse me? Are you guys open?”

Carol set down her clipboard and turned down the radio before propping open the bud-room door. She tapped a security button at the front desk and the thick glass entry door clicked to unlock. The figure gratefully pulled it open and sloshed their way inside, already stuttering apologies.

“I’m so sorry I’m getting your floor all wet. Normally I would never do this, and I know it’s so late, it’s just pouring out there and I can’t even see where I’m walking.”

Carol’s lips twitched into a bemused smirk before her focus shifted to detail the disheveled girl before her. This poor thing was shivering and shaking, with nothing but a gray windbreaker to keep her dry. Her long hair was so drenched, Carol couldn’t even discern the color, and the girl’s shoes were still pooling water where she stood. Something in her face was so soft, so bewildered under the blue entry room lights, it made this waterlogged kitten of a girl Carol’s top priority.

“No wonder, you’re drenched. What’s so important you’re waltzing through weather like this?”

The girl smiled sheepishly.

“Weed.”

Carol thought she might be in love.

She swallowed her heart as this girl unzipped her windbreaker to reveal a black t-shirt plastered to her body. Carol raked her eyes over the pretty girl’s curves, trying not to linger on the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra. The sharp tug in Carol’s chest started crawling down to her stomach; she tried in vain to fight the blush creeping up her cheeks as she drank in the girl’s heavenly body. Carol could only imagine what killer legs the wet denim was hiding, _ and how beautiful they’d look thrown over her shoulders _...

Carol had to blink a few times to clear her still floaty head before gesturing into the budroom. 

“Normally you’re not supposed to come back here while I’m doing inventory,” Carol closed the door behind them and picked up her pen from the counter. “And I’m certainly not supposed to let you smoke in here, but I won’t tell if you don’t.”

Carol winked and held out her weed. The girl’s cheeks flooded with color and she reached out for the small gold Stiiizy. Carol scooted around the corner to their back room and grabbed some of their branded merchandise from a team-building workshop. 

Once the girl was situated in Supreme Intelligence sweats and the only sweatshirt they had (an extra-large), Carol had coaxed a name out of her.

“Paris? That’s a pretty name.” Carol smirked at the blush that crept up her cheeks. “Have you ever heard of the band - Pvris? Spelled with a V?”

The girl pushed a strand of hair out of her face, “Actually, I haven’t. It seems like a crime, but I’ve never been to Europe either.”

Carol was caught off guard by the chortle that tumbled out of her mouth. No one got her to _ chortle _. 

“I’m supposed to be coming to visit my grandma, but it’s pouring so hard out there I can’t see anything.”

“Oh yeah? Where are you supposed to be, if you don’t mind me asking?”

The girl named an even teenier town nowhere near Rosamund, about a day’s motorcycle ride to the east. Carol, a dumb useless lesbian, of course offered the ride. If nothing else, she’d get to have a pretty girl wrapped around her for a super butch motorcycle ride.

“Well, you’re definitely stranded here for the night,” Carol dragged her eyes up Paris’ legs and had to bite her lip to keep from drooling. “But lucky you, a friend you met three hours ago lives in town and would be willing to let you couch surf.”

Paris smiled with reddened eyes, eyelashes fluttering low. Whether the work of her yearning gay brain or the smoke from her Stiiizy, Carol felt her face flush in spite of herself. Paris giggled, and Carol’s head snapped back up to her face before Paris decided to let her in on the joke.

“As long as you promise not to murder me in my sleep, I think we’ll be okay.”

“Wow... I can’t believe you don’t trust me after I shared my weed with you?” Carol’s mock offense turned Paris’ giggles into a delightful peal of laughter. “I thought gay stoners are supposed to be a trusting community.”

Carol caught the last bit of tension drop out of Paris’ shoulders as she let out another laugh like a bell.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, I was just worried that you were straight!”

Carol’s mouth dropped open. When her brain caught back up to her body, she turned towards the shelf she was supposed to be stocking.

“Wow… I take back my couch surfing offer.”

Paris’ squeals of protest reverberated around the empty dispensary and brought an unwitting smile to Carol’s face.

“How _ dare _ you assume I’m straight.” Carol’s playful venom was met with more laughter, and she couldn’t fight the smile that cracked across her face. When she turned from the finished shelf, she was met with Paris’ pleading eyes, which sent a hot pang coursing through Carol. “Oh no, princess, you don’t get to use baby eyes right now.”

Paris sucked in a sharp intake of breath, and Carol caught a blush creep up her cheeks before she violently coughed the hit she was taking into her elbow. Carol laughed affectionately and passed the blushing girl her water bottle. She turned back to her shelves and picked up her clipboard to finish the work she was doing.

“If I apologize for assuming you were hetero, will you call me princess again?”

Carol almost dropped her pen. She fumbled for it and Paris let out another delighted peal of laughter. Carol turned around with her own blush and pointed an accusatory finger - a wordless warning of how hopelessly turned on Carol was getting.

Carol took a deep breath and felt a pleasant buzz trickle down her spine.

“I’m almost finished up, and then we’ll see how royally you can behave…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boo I can't write smut so here's a self-indulgent stoner Carol Danvers AU  
I don't like writing things with "y/n" because it takes away my authenticity of emotion, but I deliberately made Paris a pretty generic character so y'all can project onto her the way I do :)
> 
> If anyone needs any additional clarification about weed/terminology/any other stoner tomfoolery, feel free to ask! I'm always happy to clarify or answer any questions.


	4. Unearthed (Kylo Ren)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mollymauk Tealeaf inspired Ben Solo au? kinda fix-it fic, kinda just me practicing poetic writing? Ben's perspective, IMPLIED Reylo but Rey is not in this chapter, only mentioned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here lies a Hollow Grave  
For the Devil to rest in  
but he will not go without me
> 
> Yet here I am  
Alone  
Holding his frozen heart in my hands  
And wishing that with all my power  
I could make it beat again

The day Ben Solo died, a little piece of Rey’s soul went with him.

She used to be a single thread in an indifferent tapestry of life, but since she’d first felt Ben in the Force, the rest of the tapestry faded to gray. She and Ben were the only intertwined threads that mattered..

She felt the exact moment when his light in the Force died. She could feel his last heartbeats, and then he faded from her fingers.

With the snip of a thread, the Fates took Ben from her.

And after she spilled countless tears for Ben Solo, 

Rey could only mourn.

\---

When Ben Solo came back to life, the first thing he saw was her face.

For a split second, he was certain he’d reached the gates of Heaven.

He knew he didn’t deserve it, after the sins he committed, and yet there was the face of an angel staring back at him - his ray of light in the darkness. He was reunited with the soft, beautiful smile of Rey Palpatine. A girl from such a dark past, who had promised she would be a part of his bright future.

_Rey…_

Before he could breathe the holy word of her name, her face twisted and vanished into nothing more than a wisp of smoke. Ben’s eyes fluttered open and a foggy headache rolled over him like the underside of a tidal wave. He wanted to rub his eyes, to banish his headache, and to find a blanket - _ gods _ he was cold. That was when he realized he was held immobile. 

Instantly the practiced shield deployed over Ben’s mind. This was not a Force attack, he realized after a moment, but he still couldn’t see and he still couldn’t move, both of which agitated his claustrophobia. Ben started to panic - his shallow breaths only filled his lungs with dirt and dust. Ben tried to move his hands, to little avail. He reached out with the Force and was met by a thin gasp of fresh air. With panic settling into a white-hot ball in his stomach, the Force bloomed like a mushroom cloud, dispersing soil and rocks at his will.

He’d been buried.

Ben Solo clawed his way out of the underworld like the Kill of Hell himself. He gasped for air as his dirt-caked fingers churned through the unpacked terra. Sunlight assaulted his senses, but the heat of two suns was far more welcome than the cold darkness of the underground. Ben hauled himself out of the grave and wiped as much dirt out of his eyes as he could. When his senses were clear and his heart rate had slowed enough for him to think straight, he caught sight of an onyx headstone.

_ Ben Solo _

_ Jedi Master and beloved son. _

His eyes helped him to clear the remnants of dust, spilling over at the sight of Rey’s writing. Reaching out to touch the warm headstone, he could feel each tear she’d spilled for him, every night she spent alone, the crushing weight of saving the galaxy on her shoulders alone, he could feel every drop of alcohol she’d consumed, trying to distract herself from one burning pain with another. He reached further to find her, and he saw her face in a whisper of white smoke on the edge of his consciousness.

Rey was his last hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLS DONT YELL AT ME. this is my 3 am bastard brainchild.  
too bad I'm shit at writing reunions... if any more talented writers want to write a reunion, please tag me and you're welcome to use this as a prologue :)


	6. Author's Note: books and breaks

Hey everybody! I don't know if anybody's reading this, but I wanted to post this update to keep everyone in the loop.

I realize my mistake by lumping all my one-shots into one book, so I think I'll be separating them by fandom. Even if I only have one Star Wars one shot and one Captain Marvel one shot, it'll still be easier to organize by fandom so my Captain Marvel gays don't have to wait for through a Critical Role blob.

So this book will be deleted soon, in favor of categorizing things a little more clearly. I'll still be writing, it'll just be a little more obvious which fandom I'm working on right now.

Thanks everyone who's read any of my stories and ESPECIALLY to anyone reading this :)


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